


Unexpected Heat

by claireweasley (dul_cin_ea)



Category: Firefly, Serenity (2005)
Genre: Dark, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:00:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22965796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dul_cin_ea/pseuds/claireweasley
Summary: He’s near-cooking right now, and he hasn’t even done anything.
Relationships: Jayne Cobb/Simon Tam
Kudos: 23





	Unexpected Heat

**Author's Note:**

> This ficlet was originally posted on livejournal on 18th Feb 2006, and has been exported directly from there, so apologies for the (undoubtedly numerous) extremely old errors.
> 
> Originally written for for [ LJ User: ana grrl ].

Since he’s been on Serenity, Jayne’s seen almost every planet and moon there is. The jobs they stick to have a sort, so they see some more regular than others, but they get around. And every now and again they hit one that’s just plain peculiar.

It’s the ﬁrst time Jayne’s been on Stelle, and all he can tell about it, is that it’s too gorram hot. Too close to a sun, or something like that. So damn hot he can’t for the life of himself work out why, or how anyone managed to settle on it in the ﬁrst place. The bartender, wearing some sort of ice-pack contraption for a hat tells him this is this colder months.

As a rule, Jayne has nothing against heat. In fact, most of the time he likes it, he’s partial to a decent sweat; means you’ve worked hard, earned it. But it seems to him that if this is winter, summer on Stelle must be like living in an armpit.

He’s near-cooking right now, and he hasn’t even done anything. All of them are here in the local bar, the crew, likely most of them thinking they made the wrong decision getting oﬀ Serenity at all. Waiting around for the job details they’re supposed to be getting; sitting and sweating. Well, some of them is sitting, others are lying about. Kaylee and Inara are sprawled out on a bench talking softly. Mal and Zoe are to the left of Jayne, standing up of course, alert, wary; but downing drinks like they are made out of coin. Doc’s to the other side of Jayne, on the bench, fanning his sister with god knows what. Coaster, looks like. Seems pretty useless to Jayne, River’s about the only one who don’t look discomﬁted by the heat, she’s got too busy staring at the bartenders head gear.

Jayne just goes on trying not to move anymore than he has to. Not that it matters any, he’s already covered in a thick layer of sweat. Pools underneath his legs on the seat. When he breathes it’s hot, like the steaming his Ma used to give him as a kid when he’d had the croup. Never seemed to make him feel any better then, either.

A bead of sweat rolls down Jayne’s lower back, and he involuntarily wiggles in his seat. Simon turns his head, his sweat is making his hair is sticking up at the front. Jayne smirks.

‘You look like a dumbass.’

‘I’m sorry–,’ Simon says, with a pissy face on, ‘–we’re you talking to me, or our friend wearing the ice-pack?’

‘You,’ Jayne says.

‘Cut it the squabbling,’ Mal snaps. He looks bothered and sweaty. ‘We’re waiting for a respectable business contact here.’ There is a small silence, where everyone seems to look in the Captain’s direction.

‘Well, we’re waiting for a business contact,’ Mal corrects. ‘Just, keep the name-calling to minimum.’

Simon mumbles something under his breath that sounds a lot like ’he started it’ and gets up to go to the men’s room, but Jayne doesn’t even bother trying to reply, he’s sick of talking. It’s too hot to talk. He is thinking about other things now, though. Things that probably wouldn’t help him cool down any, but which are better than sitting. Jayne gets to his feet, trying to look casual. River is smiling slightly at him, and it’s not right at all.

Simon’s just zipping up when he gets there, and when he spots Jayne he throws him another pissy look.

‘You must be joking.’

Jayne leers ‘I ain’t even said anything yet.’

‘Yes, well–’ Simon’s washing his hands, scrubbing just that bit too hard for it to be normal. ‘You don’t have to tell me how disconcerting it is that I already know your pre-coital expressions. ‘

There is a push against the door, and Jayne pushes it back with a small thud. Did Simon really have to make everything sound like a Doctor’s surgery?

‘So are we going to rut or what?’ He’s getting kind of antsy.

Simon puts his hands on his hips, and gives Jayne this pathetic pained expression, but it isn’t a no, so Jayne thinks it’ll do. He grabs the front of Simon’s shirt and walks him backwards into a stall, slamming it behind him. Simon kicks the lid closed and starts to say something about it being unhygienic. Jayne stops Simon’s mouth ﬂapping by pressing his own against it. The Doc, unsurprisingly, tastes damp and salty, all soft sweaty upper lip. The kissing changes his snippy tone right quick, and then there are warm, deft little doctor hands snaking under Jayne’s shirt.

That’s right. Jayne’s back hits the side of the stall with a bang, and he’s unzipping deliberated creased pants when Simon’s hand grasps his wrist. Dammit. Not now. He can’t possibly be still sulking.

‘Alright,’ Jayne breathes ‘You don’t look like a dumbass, you–’

‘No,’ Simon shakes his head, his whole body stiﬀ as a board. ‘Listen.’

Jayne sighs. They’re in a ruttin' bar, of course there is going to be noise. He should have known Simon was getting to get all uptight about being adventurous. 

But then Jayne hears it. A scream.

_Gorram it._

He doesn’t even stop to tuck his shirt back in. All he can think about is how he’s going to explain to Mal that he was absent in a tussle because he was trying to get some. He pushes the door to the bathroom open, but the sight the greets him makes him pull the door shut again, just as forcefully. He holds the door shut, trying to catch his breath, and Simon runs into the back of him. 

Something must be showing on his face because Simon’s eyes get real dark.

‘What is it?’

‘Reavers.’ Jayne answers, matter of fact. His voice not even sounding scared.

There is a heavy crash against the door, cracking the wood. They saw him, then. They’re _fucked_. Jayne’s hands close more tightly around the handle, pressing his weight against the door. Well, they ain’t getting in without a ﬁght.

‘River?’

‘Didn’t see her.’ Jayne curses. ‘Get one of my guns out of it’s holster. They get in, you get as many of them as you can, but get yourself before they can get–’

Jayne doesn’t know how to ﬁnish the sentence so he just doesn’t, and already Simon’s hands are at his waist, a whole diﬀerent way than how they were in the stall only a little while ago. He’s holding the gun like it’s going to explode in his face. Jayne grins.

‘You look like a–’

There is another crash against the door, heavier this time.


End file.
